Encounters
by The Moonspinner
Summary: The 3 ways Van and Hitomi never met.  Totally AU, no idea what I'm doing with this and rated for underage drinking and other questionnable plot devices. Also the title makes it sound meaningful; it isn't by any stretch of imagination.
1. Chapter 1

Just a random little thing that floated into my head, funnily enough in slightly drunken haze. I'll be doing just three of these (they aren't related to each other though possible set in the same world?): no strings attached kind of writing. Undeep, unmeaningful and completely pointless. In this one, I warn you, there's a very morally questionable plot, underage drinking and a very stupid Hitomi. Read at your own peril.

Let me know if I should bother with the other two.

LLL

M.S.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own Escaflowne.

**Warning:****Do not attempt this at home... or in a bar... or anywhere alright! All men are dangerous! *wild look* Trust no one!**

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><p><em><strong>.<strong>_

Hitomi looked around the bar, befuddled, but still with discomfort.

She suppressed a drunken snort. Only she would worry even when partially sloshed.

'Reduces self-awareness my ass!' She thought rudely as she tried to remember which her right foot was. That was the one that went first wasn't it? According to that fabulous song anyway...

She was still humming _that fabulous song_half an hour later when the door, strategically placed right opposite her by some higher power- God, karma... an author perchance? Who knew?- opened and the coldest draught that had ever 'draughted' hit her.

She shivered.

It was a sign. Well the sixth sign really. She should not have come tonight.

When the taxi broken down ten blocks from her destination, she sighed but didn't give it another thought.

When it began snowing as she walked to her destination, she cursed mildly.

When random, creepy men hit on her as she walked to her destination because she'd decided to slut it up –fishnet stalking! Why?- she glared belligerently.

When, on reaching the destination she realized that her date was yet to arrive and thus she knew no one there she chose to settle down with a very, very strong drink.

When, an hour later she realized that she had been stood up and was drunk enough to be babbling mindlessly- in case there is another way to babble- she decided that introspection was required.

But, that draught settled it. Slow she might but, but thick? Not she! Ominous winds deserve ones' undivided attention. And really she had to get out of here, before someone else 'bought her a drink' or worse she opened her big fat drunken mouth and spewed out dangerous details. For example: she was only seventeen, she didn't have a ride home and so on.

She stood up, and marvelled at how steady she was.

Then she attempted to move.

Understandably it wasn't very... coordinated.

She stumbled through the room and managed to make it to the door only bumping three or four people, spilling one drink and muttering, 'Merci' to the French man she was supposed to be apologizing to.

A success really.

However, even she had to admit that barrelling into a man who was courteously holding the door open for you was a sign of one needing to sober up.

"I'm so sorry." She apologized taking a step away from him and wondering if it would be rude to just leave.

His first reaction was a glare she noticed, but as he gauged her, his face relaxed and he said politely, but she felt with some sarcasm, "Not at all. I was unquestionably in the way."

She looked sheepish and muttered another apology. Now she could leave surely? He'd gotten that little dig in, she was repentant.

"Not so drunk that you can't feel repentant but drunk enough to think out aloud? What put you in this unquestionably uncomfortable state? Should I be wary of the whisky?"

She bit her lip, flushed and then answered in a small voice "And the gin."

Her victim chuckled and said, "Duly noted. And for this useful warning, shall I hail you a cab?"

She shook her head slightly vouching that her friend was just a block away.

She didn't add that a block away he should stay seeing as there was little chance, even in hell, that he'd pick her up outside a bar at two in the morning...

...Or so she thought.

He was looking at her thoughtfully, "Let me guess, underage?"

She felt panic stir in her and turned to flee but discovered that being drunk often inhibits ones abilities to 'run like the wind'

Damn alcohol.

His hand was clamped firmly on her shoulder and he said, "I don't think so. You'll probably run into a tree and that's the last thing I need." She heard him mutter after this, though undoubtedly she wasn't supposed to, "And I'm not even on duty."

"Cop?" She squealed, deciding that her current situation had left her with such little dignity that squeaking could hardly allow her to lose more.

Another laugh, "You really have to stop thinking out aloud. And no, I'm not a cop, though I will be in one year and six months. As you can imagine, I'm not looking forward to dragging you down to the station."

Her eyes widened perceptibly and he noted with satisfaction that she struggled a bit more. Maybe a little fear would do her some good.

She said however with frightening lucidity for someone in her inebriate state, "As a cadet you have no right to arrest me or to report me for any crime you think I may have committed." She paused, "Also I turn eighteen in three days."

He looked impressed but said with amusement, "As a legal citizen two years your senior however I have a responsibility to."

She felt she was getting more sober by the minute, "I could scream rape." She answered.

"My friend owns the bar." He countered, grin widening.

She wondered whether she should just kick him in the shins and make a mad dash for it seeing as she was now decidedly sober.

"Since you're still talking aloud- in third person mind you- I wouldn't recommend trying it. There's still fear of that tree. And you ramming into it."

She watched him with growing dislike, "Do you usually make fun of people you're threatening to throw in jail for a misdemeanour?"

His smile turned unholy as she said this and he replied, "Only when they're pretty seventeen year olds."

Silence.

"Are you HITTING on me?" She sounded outraged.

"A little." He admitted, not sounding the least bit ashamed.

"That's illegal!" She exclaimed.

He raised an eye brow, "To hit on a minor?"

"You're a cop." She protested.

"A cadet." He corrected with a grin.

"I now demand proof." She... demanded.

He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open.

"Been practising that move haven't you?" She asked conversationally as she peered at his identity card.

"As often as I can." He said solemnly.

"Well good. Nothing is quite as impressive as a cop with a good wallet-flip. So cadet Fanel, why are you hitting on a poor seventeen year old girl? Two years younger than you I might add."

"You turn eighteen in three days." He replied cheekily.

She huffed, "Look, not interested. And my ride will start to wonder where I've gone. We can't have that can we?"

"Why were you even in this wretched place?" he asked with a frown.

She frowned also, but asked lightly, despite knowing the truth "Is that the way you talk about your friend's fine establishment?"

He didn't smile, "I was lying and you know it. Don't change the subject. You aren't in some sort of trouble are you?"

She straightened and said haughtily "Even if I was, it's none of your business. You don't even know my name."

"Well?" He asked, once again slightly amused.

She sniffed, "I've no plans on telling you."

He finally let go of her arm and held out a hand, "Van Fanel, nice to meet you."

She sniffed again, but responded, "Hitomi Kanzakhi. Charmed I'm sure."

"Do you go to college round here Hitomi Kanzakhi?"

"I will in a little while." She replied evasively.

"Suspicious soul, aren't you?" He asked with what she felt was a look approval.

She nodded and said, "This really has been lovely," She smiled to show that she was sincere, "But my ride really is waiting. So I'll have to go."

Van nodded thoughtfully and said, "Do you want an escort?"

She shook her head.

Van smiled brilliantly, "But that gives me no opportunity whatsoever to kiss you."

Hitomi stared. "Excuse me?"

"The walk there would have enabled me to flirt outrageously, ask you out and kiss you. I can hardly do that all in the one minute it'll take you to shake my hand and leave."

She primed her mouth, mostly because she knew she not ought to encourage this possibly insane man. "And what makes you think I would have let you kiss me?"

"It would have been a chaste peck." He assured.

She rolled her eyes and said, "You would have been given no encouragement, denied and slapped soundly across the face."

His eyes danced, "No? Really?"

"Most definitely." She assured. "And you should know better than to hit on unsuspecting girls. Now good bye Van Fanel." She shook his hand and walked to the driveway before he could respond.

He watched her walk away with a faint smile.

She paused, but didn't turn around as she said clearly, "There's an old library on Palais road. Three days time. At four thirty. Creepy policemen are not welcome, but rather cute boys are." She walked on.

He grinned like a moron.

_Le Fin._


	2. Chapter 2

Here we go: the second of the odd trilogy. It's not exactly what I wanted but I'm alright with the end result. Also so tell if you find grammar or spelling mistakes. I call it, for some incomprehensible reason, 'Broken & Booked' in my head. Not the official name, but there you are. Hope you like it. Do give me feedback even if you don't, but especially if you do. I need cheering up.

LLL

M.S.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own Escaflowne.

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><p>"I'm sorry Merle I've got to see a man about a horse."<p>

Hitomi had not meant to overhear an entire break-up and so she had no intentions of giving herself away at the vital moment: when the two people she was currently hidden from were about to finally, _bloody _leave!

But if anything could make Hitomi lose self-control; cars (scared her), cake (maddened her with longing) and boys (made her nervous) aside, it was a particularly apt turn of phrase.

And so she guffawed. Not a snort, snicker, chuckle or chortle, but a fully blown out guffaw.

She would have clamped her hands over her mouth if she had been prone to engage in overused, overly dramatic gesticulations. She was not, so instead, for what felt like the hundredth time that day she sunk further into the plush but uncomfortable stool that had become the bane of her existence.

She could admit quite unashamedly that she feared Merle. Merle, the now ex-girlfriend of Van – yes she'd bothered to remember their names, partly because she felt it was the least she could do seeing as no writer would ever give this parting of lovers the book it deserved and partly because she felt oddly involved- sure could scream. Merle had taken up a better part of the thirty minutes the scene had taken to play out indulging in a monologue of shrieks, wails, sobs and yowls. She ripped into him for being late, tore apart his character, utterly squashed his sexual prowess and finally ended the tirade with a speech so impassioned that it would have made a smashing dialogue in a play.

He simply repeated in a disrespectfully amused tone that he wanted to end things. {Hitomi had felt that his voice had the slightest edge to it, but perhaps she was imagining it?} Then, Merle had screamed about how much she loved him, how he was perfect and eventually how he had no right. The words braggart, coward, cad, lout, boor, churl and scoundrel had been used.

"What was that?" Merle, unsurprisingly, screamed.

Hitomi felt the usual worry and panic jostle around her stomach as she heard Merle advance towards her. She wondered how she'd explain herself.

'Oh for Gods' sake, it's a ruddy book store!' The voice that told her just how to handle such situations barked. 'They're surrounded by low shelves and they didn't even bother to check who was skulking around, too daunted to interrupt their rip-up!'

And as usual, Hitomi ignored all the good advice she was giving herself and thought a little indignantly, 'I do not skulk!'

'No, what you **don't** do is bother to use that brilliant brain you must possess, seeing how much you read, to stand up for yourself. And really-'

She tuned the voice in her head out, not wanting to visit that argument again.

"- eave it, Merle," Van was saying. "Don't change the subject. We're over and I need to leave. Like I said, I have to see a man about a horse."

Hitomi could have hugged Van then and there.

She heard him walk off and then heard Merle follow him still shrieking.

The silence that followed was almost disturbing. It didn't seem quite the same without Merle shrieking. She would mourn the loss she thought solemnly as she rolled her neck. However as her tense body eased out, she also thought that she could learn to live without Merle.

For one, she shut her eyes and luxuriously stretched her legs out, her little library and bookstore could return to its' ancient, quiet, naturally dusty existence. It was probably the only old book place left in the city. Right on the corner of Palais road, it took her only ten minutes to get home.

She kicked her legs out and stood up, feeling relief that she was now rid of the stool. She rolled her neck once again and opened her eyes with a grin, "That was quite amusing-" She began to say, only to trail off and nearly topple backwards in surprise.

There was a man staring at her with a grim smile.

"Amusing was it?" He asked quietly while watching her right herself.

"I thought you were off to get a drink?" She blurted out. She knew not how she managed to even frame, let alone execute that sentence, but there it was.

"Excuse me?" He asked looking a little confused.

"You said you had to see a man about a horse." She reminded him.

He quirked an eyebrow at her- a really adorable eyebrow she decided.

"And?" His sounded annoyed now. The eyebrow stayed adorable though.

"Oh." She said as she realized he had no idea what the phrase meant, "Did you just use it to infuriate Merle?"

He nodded but asked sharply, "Do you know her?"

She shrugged, "Yeah sure, why not?"

He seemed to get that one and relaxed.

He eyed her curiously, "You were the appreciative guffaw?"

"Appreciative? I suppose so. It did make her awfully mad."

"She doesn't like things she can't understand."

"Like you." Hitomi again refrained from the overused hand-over-mouth routine. She blushed instead.

A forced smile found its way to his lips and he seemed to appraising her. She felt gooseflesh on her neck.

Maybe." He finally admitted.

She said nothing, feeling the discomfort return.

"So do you normally eavesdrop on people, or was this a one off?" He settled on a stool similar to hers and she took a moment to glare at it before replying with glibness that was very, very unusual "It's what I do on Mondays and Thursdays."

"It's Sunday." He pointed out pulling out a cigarette case.

"I couldn't resist the special." She joked.

"Well I suppose next time I'll remember to check." He began to search for a lighter.

"Yes do. I reckon my right buttock will never be the same again." She said vaguely, eyes training on the lighter and narrowing. "Are you really going to light that?"

"Are you going to give me hell about ruining my health?" He asked rudely.

She replied immediately, "Like I care. Go hack it out somewhere else though. I'd rather you didn't light that cigarette in what must be the last book place on this street."

The cigarette sagged in his mouth as he stared at her.

She looked annoyed, the discomfort now completely gone. Boys? Psh! Idiots. "What? I eavesdrop on one conversation and I give a damn about your ruinous and ignorant life choices? I think not. But I do give a damn about this store so go brood someplace else."

Silence as he quietly put away his cigarette.

"So you must know my name..." Van began awkwardly and hesitantly.

Hitomi scowled, "Van! Star of the show. Merle was fantastic of course, but you had me with that 'I can't give a damn attitude'. "

He chuckled, "Isn't that a relief?"

She scowled even more, "I wasn't done. I meant to add 'Until now'."

He pouted and said, "But the relief.

She watched those adorable eyebrows- Lord she was odd! - and felt herself relent.

"Oh alright. You won my heart. And accordingly, a weight has been lifted of your shoulders." Her mouth suddenly twitched, but she continued solemnly, "You hoped for my approval, young master and now you have it. Go forth and conquer the world."

He laughed out right that time and she felt a gentle buzz. That was two out of three he'd gotten.

"You're funny."

"Hilarious."

"Comical."

"Uproarious?" She asked hopefully.

"A little too much don't you think?"

She looked downcast.

"Alright, uproarious." He assured her with a choke.

She bowed by way of response.

"Are you a regular?"

"Regular enough." She bent to pick up the books she had been browsing through.

"Anything good?" He threw a hand out carelessly, gesturing to the books she was piling into her arms.

"Several actually. But only if you're a fan of Plato, Arthur C. Clarke, Shute and Carolyn Keene."

If he thought it was the strangest combination he'd ever heard, he didn't mention it. Instead he said, "I'll have you know I'm extremely fond of Nancy Drew."

She gave him a wry smile, "The only book on my list that wasn't for me. Too bad."

"What does that matter? Surely you like Nancy Drew?"

She looked at the book on the top of her pile- the Mystery of the Crumbling Mansion- and shook her head with a smile, refusing to answer and choosing to ask instead, "So are you ever going to get yourself that drink?"

"Why do you think I want a drink?" He asked bewildered. He looked so much nicer she decided when he wasn't frowning. Despite this pleasing conclusion, she looked at him disapprovingly, "Throwing about fancy phrases with no clue what they mean?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"The phrase 'to see a man about a horse/dog' is often used to indicate that the speaker wishes to have an alcoholic beverage." She stated primly. The light in her eyes danced though, and betrayed her expression completely.

"Ah." His lips quirked upwards.

"Yes. I assume now that you're 'informed' you will, with utmost haste rectify the damage caused by wielding such a weighty phrase so carelessly?"

"Damage?"

"Phrases are like fairies. If you don't do right by them they die out. And there are few things as tragic as a phrase dying out."

"Shall we chant 'I do believe in fairies, I do, I do I DO!'?"

She watched him chuckle darkly, "Yes laugh it up, but phrases like people don't enjoy being misunderstood."

He shut up quite quickly. She seemed to be quite effective at that.

She made ready to leave feeling what little positive feeling she'd gotten out of their conversation she'd just killed.

"You never told me your name." He said quietly.

"Well to be fair, you never asked." She said lightly, before pausing for an infinitesimal moment. Then she continued "And to be fair again, I suppose you weren't interested. You didn't assume you'd talk to me long enough to care."

Seeing his slightly outraged expression she said hastily, "I've offended you haven't I? I didn't mean it as an insult. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't have cared either."

"But you would have still asked." He finished with a twisted smile.

She shrugged, "Probably, but I've had graciousness drilled into me, and you've had politeness drilled into you."

He looked completely taken aback, and she wondered whether he'd give in to his anger. His shoulders tensed and his hands clenched. It would be good for him she reasoned. So she'd have to deal with being yelled at by a stranger: big deal. It would be her good deed for the day.

However, in the end he let out a reluctant laugh, "You're good. You somehow dealt a serious blow to my ego, questioned my upbringing and let me know you care enough to listen all at that same time."

She rolled her eyes, "I wasn't insulting your upbringing. I meant that you were probably the son of a diplomat."

He looked up sharply at this, eyes unnaturally bright, "You're awfully smart aren't you?"

She walked ahead of him while saying, "Smart enough Van. I have to be going. Maybe we'll see each other around, but since we probably won't shall I give you a bit of parting advice?"

A sardonic look. "Can I stop you?"

"Only if you tried very, very hard."

"I'm exhausted, so go ahead."

"Well, when you're picking your next girlfriend, pick someone a little more... mature? You have issues and little girls aren't good at understanding them. And if that's the case how can you be happy?"

He said nothing for a minute eyeing her with the same sardonic expression. She expected a biting reply, but his expression suddenly softened and he asked "The closest bar has a really terrible bartender and if I went there, I'd get no help. Be my bartender for a bit?"

She said nothing, looking at him uncertainly.

He sighed, "I knew what the phrase meant you know. I'm not a total idiot. I just needed a way to extend the conversation and you thinking I was a bit of a dunce seemed a good way.

She raised an eyebrow and asked with only the faintest trace of a smile, "If this bartender isn't in the mood to serve drinks?"

"She can serve me ice cream in Aston Park." Came the immediate reply.

She grinned, feeling oddly exhilarated, "What exactly are you asking me Van?"

He grinned back, "Would you want to accompany me to go and see a man about a horse."

"Pony." She corrected, still grinning.

"Uproarious aren't you? Someone told me that." He rolled his eyes, "Is that a yes?"

She nodded.

He smiled faintly.

It was nothing really, at least not by usual standards. It was just a girl agreeing to listen to a boy talk about his problems. But for whatever reason, to them at that point, it felt like everything in the world.

The bell on the door of the bookstore tinkled gently as they walked out, side by side.

_**Het Einde **_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I currently don't even own a bed, so rights to a million dollar anime franchise? Yeah not happening.

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><p>He probably looked like a mad person.<p>

He sped up, as he ran towards a bend in the pathway. Really, who but a mad person would follow a mugger into the treacherous labyrinth that was East Aston Park from dusk till dawn?

Yes, he definitely looked like a mad person.

He took a long stride and turned the corner, hoping he had gained on the lowlife... and then he rammed straight into a girl eating ice-cream.

As he fell backwards, his eyes instinctively closed, bracing himself for a painful landing. However when the oddly strong smell of chocolate reached him, he forgot about the pain even as he hit the ground. He was much too busy trying to figure out whether or not his shirt felt oddly wet.

It was his favourite shirt.

"Oh god, are you alright?" Van heard her ask from his patch of dry, decidedly scratchy grass.

"Is that creepy wet feeling on my arm the remnants of your ice-cream?" He asked with his eyes still closed.

"Yes I'm afraid so. But don't worry I can get another o-"

"I was worried about my shirt, not your ice cream." He laughed as he opened his eyes, and then instantly sighed. There it was: a large brown blob, still in the process of dripping off his arm. He began to push himself up, wincing only slightly, "I suppose the man I was chasing ran right past you?"

"Mugger wasn't he?" She asked.

"You knew?"

"Ugly cap, shredded hoodie and a Coach? What else could he have been?"

"You didn't try to stop him?" He knew he shouldn't have been, but he felt annoyed.

"I like my guts quite where they are, thank you very much." She retorted flippantly.

When he didn't so much as crack a smile she added, "What if he'd taken my ice-cream?"

He looked up and gave her a small smile. "Well seeing as you owe an old lady a bag and me a new shirt I think you can give me the bit of tissue you're holding."

"Me? I think not." She handed him the tissue, "If anything you owe me some ice-cream. Who takes a corner without offering some sort of warning?" She gave him a mock glare that almost instantly became a thoughtful look. The wind blew past them, stirring the straggler leaves that had yet to rejoin the earth.

_'Cycles.' he thought absently as he watched her pull a leaf out of her hair and set it free. _

They were both quiet and when he focused on her face he realized that even through the strangely heavy silence, her eyes had never strayed from his face.

"I'm sorry, but have we ever met?"

He gave her a slightly bewildered look and replied, "That's not much to be sorry about and I don't think so. Do you go to school around here?"

"Yes. But have we ever met around the city?" She had this nagging feeling that she'd seen him near her favorite book store? Maybe in that pub across her aunts place?

But he was shaking his head, "Not that I can remember, but I do have a terrible memory." He suddenly noticed she was wearing running shorts. "An ice cream right after you've taken a jog?" he asked with an accusing look.

She looked sheepish, "Well, before, to be honest."

"You run here this late? Isn't it a bit dangerous?"

"Says' the man chasing after dragons." She said lightly. He looked at her sharply not knowing why. When she looked back with a raised eyebrow he relaxed and laughed. "Either that was a terribly used Chinese phrase or you think I'm high."

She grinned, "The first. I don't run here. I'm on my way to school. It's just that Aston Park has the best ice-cream."

"I can't disagree with that." He nodded, "So you're on your school track team then?"

"Yes."

"I suppose it's Azares High, just a block away?" He tried to keep the excitement out of his voice. Oh yes, it was definitely her.

She nodded, looking curious. "Have you figured out where we met?"

"Tell me three years ago at the Junior Athletic Regional finals, during your warm-ups did a strange, but decidedly handsome," He paused to smirk, "boy jump into the middle of your track?"

_There they were again, cycles- never ending repetitions that the world ran on- the universe itself maybe._

She stared at him, her jaw was slack. "You?" She asked hoarsely after a minute.

He nodded allowing a small grin.

"Drop that smug look you little shit!"

"Wh-what?" He felt and no doubt looked bewildered.

She said angrily, "When you jumped onto my track for whatever god damned reason, did you realize you looked like you'd been attacked? You were covered in blo- red paint." She hastily corrected. "I freaked. I used to have nightmares about it!"

He stared at her blankly.

"I couldn't get the image out of my head. You fall to your knees. A bunch of kids come and carry you off the field? Dear god! I remember being so scared for you."

"But you knew it was paint?" He asked hesitantly.

"Not until _after_ the race! When they started the actual race, I just froze up. Started too late and lost my regional place and a chance at nationals." She took a deep breath and looked at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes, "Bring your neck here so I may throttle it purple."

As he listened to her, his expression was one of confusion, "But you made it the next year with a vengeance didn't you? "

"How did y-"

"Well you're Hitomi Kanzakhi aren't you?"

She frowned, "Yes. You have the advantage of-"

He cut across her again and said, now sounding exactly like a manager should, "Van Fanel. Manager of the Track and Field club at Escaflowne High. I've come across your name a few times: mostly while my own runners shake in fear and dread." He paused, "Now, didn't you place second at nationals the next year?"

She nodded.

He grinned and dropped the tone, "Well then I think you owe me a thank you kiss. Failing one year made you perform better the next."

Her eyes narrowed, "_Your _idiotic team pours red paint all over _you_, _you_ jump onto my track, scarring me practically for life, I lose that year and I owe _you_ a big fat thank you kiss?"

"You won the next year." He pointed out, then he smirked, "And I didn't specify the big,f at part but if you want...

"Dear lord, enough." She snapped, "I'm late." She stalked past him and he was sure he heard her mutter, "May a dragon eat you."

He laughed as he turned to follow her, "Listen, I'm sorry. Clearly I'm being flippant about something that is very emotionally... well something. I'm sorry."

She kept stalking.

"I'm very, very sorry I ruined your chances at nationals that year." He tried again. She slowed down and he grinned.

"Alright," She bit out, still not turning, "I accept. Good bye."

"I'm walking in the same direction." He suggested in dulcet tones. He grinned even wider when her back tensed. "I'll escort you."

"Why not run after your mugger?"

"He's long gone by now." He caught up with her and on catching her expression, he chuckled, "Did you know I have three runners on my team who try to offer your soul to the devil at least several times a month? They're getting quite innovative too, last week they made a clay doll that captured your glare perfectly."

Her pace didn't slow down, so he went on.

"Yup. They hate any race you're in. In fact I think they're positively praying you make it into the Olympics this year."

She slowed down now and turned to look at him, "Can we not talk?"

"Come on. I thought you accepted my apology. It's a good ten minutes to the gates. We might as well. I imagine we'll be seeing each other a lot this year, what being in the same divisional sectors. Don't we have a meet next month?"

She grimaced, "What is it you do again? Sports wise?"

"I manage the school's athletic teams."

"But you used to play something?"

"A runner like yourself." He caught her look and said quickly, "Before you ask, leg injury. I can't run track anymore."

She was silent and then offered a subdued apology.

He smiled, "That's what I love about other athletes they always show an injured soldier the respect he deserves."

She didn't smile, and muttered, "I feel ridiculously petty now."

"I know. I win even when I lose." He joked.

She bit her lip and looked at him with serious, concerned and slightly pained eyes, but she said nothing. There was nothing more she could say really. Her expression said it all.

He looked back at her for a moment, expression thoughtful, as if he had something to say: maybe to tell her not to worry, he'd gotten over it after all. And while it was touching that she thought his injury terrible enough to warrant such a concerned, gentle look it was unnecessary.

When he spoke, all he said with mighty condescension was, "I hope your little team is ready? Ours' is rather brilliant this year."

Her expression dropped and she replied instantly, "I did hear something about your team getting better at satanic rituals."

"Ahhh. You_ are_ an expert in... umm witty retorts."

She made a face, "That's what they gossip about? My bitchy replies?"

"You rate yourself much too high," He said, "you don't have what it takes to be a bitch."

She stopped to pantomime a dagger running through her heart.

He turned and watched with amusement. When a minute later they had resumed walking he asked, "Are you aiming at a place in the Olympics?"

She snorted, "I fear tales of my excellence are just that, tales."

"You did make nationals."

"Two years ago."

"What happened last year?"

"Nothing really. I sat out because of some health issues."

"Better now?"

She turned to look at him and shrugged, "I'm back in training."

"Nationals?"

"Are you gathering information on me?"

He nodded, "A little. I've seen videos of you run. You're quite brilliant."

She smiled, "Thank you. How come you didn't recognize me though? I would have felt much better if you'd gone, 'Oh god, you're Hitomi Kanzakhi!'"

He stared at her, considering her question, "I'm not too sure. I suppose, when we watch other runners we don't pay too much attention to faces. Also... I think you... cut your hair?"

"Yup."

They walked, and the silence was companionable, Van would admit, but he felt that companionable wasn't enough.

"So you dreamt about me?"

It had to be hostile to be interesting.

He had been expecting it, but it didn't make it much less painful when she slapped him across the head, "I had nightmares about you." She corrected furiously, "Of an idiotic boy covered in blood, stumbling onto a track, looking like something had attacked him. Don't make it a tawdry pick up line." She glared at him.

"You're a mind reader." He said admiringly, "I shall avoid tawdry pick up lines then, bu-"

"Any pick up lines." She warned.

"A positive mind reader!" He exclaimed, watching her out of the corner of his eyes, "So yes or no for nationals?"

When he repeated the question that had been plaguing her for the last two months she frowned, "Honestly, I have no idea."

"I thought my question would be redundant." He remarked.

"A year ago it would have been." She found herself confessing, "But being off track for that year, made me think a bit, and you know what thinking does..."

"Makes you so confused you feel like a badger at tea." He finished.

She laughed, "Something like that."

"Running isn't everything for you then?"

She shook her head, "Sadly not anymore. I'll keep doing, it. Probably through Uni too."

He shook his head, "It's a god damned waste you know? To have all that talent, but no passion."

"So I've been told."

"You know you run like you've given genetically altered legs?"

She grinned again, "So I've been told, but more nicely. They were once compared to the legs of a goddess. A winged goddess if I'm not mistaken."

He snorted, "And that turned your head."

She sighed and said with actual regret, "Sadly it did not. My head is very firmly screwed on it seems. And it has a strict policy on turning: 'Not Allowed.'"

"Bad relationship equals a cynic?"

"Bad relationship equals a pragmatist.' She corrected delicately.

"Cynics always say that." He snorted.

She glared at him and changed the subject, "On the matter or nationals, it's all far away. I have time, I'll figure it out. I always do."

He bowed his head as if accepting that not so gentle rebuff, but then stared at her appraisingly, "Yes, I think you will. You seem the type."

"You must be a good manager."

"I'm alright. It helps I used to run. I've a better understanding and all that."

They'd arrived at the gates of the park, and Hitomi laughed, "I think you've redeemed yourself by the way."

"Why do you think I did it? I couldn't have an angry girl on my conscience."

She smirked and looked him up and down, "Yes, I think you couldn't. You seem the type."

"That's not fair! Mine was nice."

She sniggered and began to walk towards the main road, "So was mine." She called back.

"I know your name." He threatened.

She actually whirled around and then smiled quite genuinely. "I hope you know how to use it." She laughed, turned back and began to jog off.

He stood still watching her go with the faintest of smiles, and muttered, "Hitomi Kanzakhi."

_Everything runs on cycles and of course there are certain people who were simply meant to meet. Incident causes it, destiny demands it and the soul harkens for it._

_**The End.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Hello you lot. Here it is- the final encounter. I've been sitting on it for months mostly because I'm still not sure if it's what I want. I just re-updated it because there were some grammar mistakes. Also I thought I'd just tell you that the reason there is always a reference to the places they're going to meet in or have already met in was really actually the central point of the three encounters and how they're linked. Hitomi and Van, even in this AU world would have met. Always. If it wasn't at the pub, then at the book store and if not then, then at the park Like I said certain people were simply meant to meet. Ideally I shouldn't have to explain this, but after reading all three, I think maybe I didn't emphasize on it as much as I should have. Tell me if that authors note was totally unnecessary why don't you? And give me some other feedback too, yes? I'd like to hear suggestions, comments etc. <strong>

**Reviews will make me dance. I love dancing.**

**LLL**

**M.S.**


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